Bear Down
by plkphoto
Summary: Grissom and Brass get involved in an unusual situation, resulting in an injured Grissom and a worried Sara. Response to a challenge, prompt Las Vegas Metro Event Code 404A, 9-1-1 Disconnect. GSR. Set sometime after 8x07.


**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Bear Down**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Gil?"

The hesitant question in the voice on the other end of the line made Jim realize that his friend usually allowed Sara to initiate contact and had not actually called her on her new number. She didn't sound upset, though, and that reassured him slightly.

"Uh, actually it's Jim."

"Brass! Oh my god! What happened? Is he alright?"

Now she was upset, and he rushed to fix his error, "Whoa, Sar, calm down. Gil's going to be just fine."

Her voice went up a few registers, "_'Going to be'_? What happened, Jim?"

"Calm down, he's okay, just some stitches and a course of antibiotics. He... uh, _I_ thought maybe we should tell you before you saw it on the news, so he let me use his phone while they treat him."

Her struggle to calm herself was evident in the evenness of her tone, "Jim, please, just tell me what happened."

"Okay. Bear with me," he grimaced a little at his inadvertent pun, "It's a little complicated, but I guess it all started when we were called out to a single vehicle rollover with suspicious circs out on Route 95, about 40 miles north of town..."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**2 Hours Earlier**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"911. What's your emergency?"

"Hello... uh... we're trapped in the visitor center at Corn Creek... uh ... there's this huge -- No! Not that!" A sudden scream pierced the air, followed by a burst of static, then the line went silent.

"Sir, sir, can you hear me? Are you there? -- Sir, if you can hear me, I'm sending an officer out to your location now."

**x.x.x.x**

"All units, all units, this is 911 dispatch. We have a 404A at Corn Creek Visitor Center. That's a 404A at Corn Creek Visitor Center. Call indicates signs of distress. Over."

"911 dispatch, this is Captain Jim Brass. CSI Grissom and I are on Route 95, 2 miles south of Corn Creek returning from the scene of the 401B. We will respond. Repeat: Captain Jim Brass and CSI Grissom will respond to the 404A at Corn Creek Visitor Center. Back."

"Copy that, Captain Brass. Back-up is en route from Las Vegas. ETA 30 minutes. Repeat back-up is en route, ETA 30 minutes. Over."

"Copy that. Brass over and out."

**x.x.x.x**

Jim switched on the lights and siren, pulling a quick U-turn, then glanced over at his companion, who had been slumped against his car door, staring blankly out the window for the past 15 minutes as they returned from the scene of a remote traffic accident. They had just passed the turnoff for Corn Creek minutes before on their way back into Vegas after processing the single vehicle incident.

A large, empty flatbed tow truck had rolled, seriously injuring the driver who, apparently, had been thrown from the vehicle and luckily had been seen by a passing state trooper. Las Vegas Homicide had been called when the trooper had located a shotgun and multiple recently fired shells near the unconscious man and a pool of blood near the truck bed. There had been no sign of another body, and oddly, no sign of a blood trail leading from the blood pool.

Since the scene was so remote, Jim and Grissom had decided to carpool in the crime lab SUV. Jim had felt that a road trip might give him some opportunity to find out how Gil was holding up and maybe pry out some information on Sara's state as well. He knew that they were in at least occasional contact, but had not been able to find out more than that.

Grissom had tested the blood pool as soon as they arrived, just to be sure. It would not have been the first time that dirty transmission fluid was mistaken for blood at the scene of a traffic accident. Interestingly, from Grissom's perspective, at least, the test had indicated positive for blood, but not human blood. Deciding that they might as well stay since they were out there, Jim had suggested that the state trooper leave it to them, then had spent the better part of two hours watching Grissom comb for clues as to what caused the wreck and at what, exactly, the man had been shooting.

They were still no closer to the answer, and Gil had seemed to lose interest in the puzzle, uncharacteristically asking that Jim drive, then slipping back toward depression as soon as they were on the road. Jim's few attempts to draw him out had not been nearly as successful as the transmission from dispatch.

Grissom was alert now and focused on the road as the SUV gained speed. Jim was glad to see that his friend had perked up a bit, but thought he was probably just glad to have an excuse to work longer and avoid going home. Breaking the silence, Jim said, "Hope you brought your gun today."

"In my kit."

"I think you should put it on, and your vest, but you're to stay in the car until I clear the scene."

"Of course," Grissom replied, reaching behind him for his doffed vest and kit.

Jim slowed as he reached the turnoff for the Corn Creek entrance to the Desert National Wildlife Refuge. Unsure what he was to find, he turned off the lights and siren, approaching slowly along the winding road. Nothing could have prepared him for what he did see.

As Jim slowed to a stop, Grissom was the first to find his voice, "I doubt our guns will do much good, and I think it best if we both stay in the car."

"Uh... yeah. Good plan."

**x.x.x.x**

"Dispatch this is Captain Jim Brass. Brass calling dispatch, come in please. Over."

"This is dispatch. What's your status? Back."

"Brass and Grissom have arrived at Corn Creek Visitor Center. The 404A is actually a 430, please send animal control. There is a large bear, possibly injured. Repeat, please send animal control prepared to handle a large, aggressive bear. Back."

"Please repeat. Did you say a bear? Back."

"That is affirmative. An aggressive bear. Back."

"Copy that. Animal control and the Park Service will be notified. Any injuries apparent at the scene? Repeat: any injuries? Back."

"That is negative. No human injuries apparent. Victims are trapped, but currently unharmed. However, the bear has apparently attacked the building. The glass door is cracked but unbroken. Victims are against the back wall. Repeat: No injuries apparent, but situation unstable. Do you copy? Back."

"Copy that. No injuries but situation unsafe. Park Service has been notified and is sending a helicopter with a sharp-shooter, ETA 10 minutes. Back-up unit, ETA 20 minutes. Can you continue to monitor the situation safely? Back."

"That is affirmative. We will remain in the vehicle and monitor the bear's activity. Over."

"Copy that. Please report any change of status. Over."

"Copy that. Brass, over and out."

**x.x.x.x**

The two men watched the huge bruin pacing back and forth in front of the glass doors of the visitor center. A mangled metal box hung against the side of the building where the bear had apparently decided that the buzzing sound from the power box needed to be stopped. Grissom pointed it out, "I'd be willing to bet that's why the original call got interrupted."

Jim looked at the huddle of four people sitting pressed against the back wall of the entry way, as far from the broken glass as they could be, "I guess none of them had a cell phone, or didn't get service out here."

The visitor center's receptionist, recognizable in his standard Park issued khakis, seemed the calmest of the four. He looked to be a retiree who decided to spend his free time birding and exploring his way across the country by working as a volunteer at a new reserve each year. Though bears should not be found in this region, he had likely encountered them before, and was trying to keep the others calm and quiet so as not to attract the bear's attention.

The three visitors looked to be a family group, middle-aged parents and a preteen daughter of about 12 or so. The father and daughter were dressed for hiking, with sturdy boots, lightweight but full sleeved shirts and long pants that looked as if they might zip off at the knee to become shorts. Both had a daypack beside them and a pair of binoculars slung around their necks. The girl also had a small digital camera, with a zooming lens, and was excitedly taking photos as the bear paced. Her father alternated between glancing at his wife and watching the bear, but did not seem overly nervous.

The woman, however, was another matter. She clutched her husband's hand, occasionally nodding her head as the receptionist spoke softly in her ear. Unlike her husband and daughter, she was not dressed for desert hiking, in a short skirt with a tank top and thong sandals, with a small purse draped around her shoulder that looked like it could hold nothing more than a tube of lipstick, some credit cards, and a driver's license. She watched the bear pace as if she were watching a tennis match, her head following its movements and her eyes growing wider with each pass.

The receptionist met Jim's eye and nodded. He knew there was nothing the police could do, beyond reporting the exact nature of the situation. Everyone would just have to wait until someone with a tranquilizer gun arrived on the scene.

While Jim was sizing up the situation in the building, Grissom had his keen eye on the movements of the bear, watching its jerky pacing. He turned to his companion, "Jim, I think this may explain our 401B. The bear may have caused the accident and then attacked the driver who tried shooting it. Also, it looks like the bear's right foreleg has been injured, possibly by our victim's shotgun. Maybe its fur soaked up most of the blood when it ran off, preventing a trail."

Jim nodded, "Sounds like a good theory, but it still doesn't explain what a bear is doing HERE in the first place... I've never heard of bears in this area at all. Maybe around Tahoe, but here?"

"No, black bears definitely don't live in this area. Plus, this one is acting very oddly, pacing back and forth like that. Maybe it escaped from a --"

Grissom's theory was cut short when the woman let out an ear-splitting screech that could be heard even through the double barrier of the glass doors and the closed windows of the SUV. The bear had paused at the small gap between the doors and was pawing at them hopefully. When the woman screamed, it reared up on its hind legs, opening its mouth in a blood-curdling roar. Then it attacked the doors with a vengeance.

As he watched the cracks snake through the glass, Brass knew they needed to do something to protect the civilians, but their guns were useless against the creature. He turned on the siren and lights in an attempt to distract the beast. It worked a little too well.

The bear spun, still rearing, toward the new sound. Without warning, it dropped down onto all fours and charged the SUV. With no time to shift out of park, the two men braced themselves as the bear rammed the side of the vehicle just behind Grissom's door. The force of the impact caused the large vehicle to tip slowly onto its side, shattering the windshield as the metal buckled slightly. Large sheets of broken safety glass fell from the frame leaving the two men exposed, Grissom hanging uncomfortably in his seatbelt with his feet braced against the center consol and Jim slumped against the broken glass of his window on the ground. Both stared wide-eyed as the beast lumbered around its fallen prey.

Ignoring the men, the bear continued around the SUV until it reached the lights, which were still flashing determinedly, then it attacked. It pulled them from the roof, the metal screeching as it gave way. In the sudden silence that followed, the two men scarcely dared to breathe.

Having put a stop to both the flashing lights and the offending siren, the bear began wandering around the parking lot, apparently much calmer now. Suddenly, it discovered a trash bin, and began rummaging through the garbage, finding small tidbits to eat.

Though the situation seemed to be diffused for the present, Jim hoped the Park Service helicopter would get there quickly. Meanwhile, he and Grissom needed to try to get to a slightly safer position and then radio in if they could. He looked up at the man braced above him, caught his eye, and tilted his head toward the back of the vehicle. Grissom nodded, and Jim slowly unbuckled his seatbelt, managing to reach the seat lever to force the back of his seat into what would have been a reclining position had the car not been lying on its side. He twisted around and crawled awkwardly but silently along the broken glass of the side windows into the rearmost part of the vehicle, where the windows still held.

Grissom grasped the handhold on his door before carefully unbuckling the support of his seatbelt, then began to lower himself carefully into the driver's area. Suddenly the radio crackled to life, "This is Air Unit #3. We are in sight of Corn Creek. ETA one minute." Grissom startled, and knocked the unit off of its base, causing a burst of static.

The bear looked up at this new intrusion and saw Grissom as he started to crawl toward the back of the SUV. It charged back across the parking lot as the radio continued to crackle. Grissom picked up the pace, no longer trying to maintain silence, but the bear arrived before he had reached the relative safety of the rear section, and as it swiped at the radio, it briefly caught the calf muscle of Grissom's leg with its claw. Jim pulled his friend the remaining distance into the back of the vehicle, and Grissom gritted his teeth as he fought not to cry out in pain, which would surely draw the bear's attention. Jim watched the bear tear the front of the vehicle to shreds, hoping it did not decide to take out its anger on them next. Suddenly, he heard the steady beat of helicopter blades slicing through the air.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1 1/2 Hours Later**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Jim's voice grew hoarse as he finished describing the harrowing events of the day, "... and then the cavalry showed up in the form of the Park Service helicopter, which scared the bear off before it could attack again. They managed to tranquilize it about five minutes later and are going to relocate it to a wildlife rehabilitation facility until its injuries heal. Our police back-up finally showed up after it all went down, and we left them to clear the scene. I used the first aid kit from the SUV to wrap Gil's leg then drove him to the hospital in one of the police cruisers, since we could make it faster than if we waited for an ambulance, and here we are. There are news people crawling all over, so I thought we'd better call."

Sara, who had been remarkably quiet for the entire length of the tale, finally spoke up, "Let me get this straight. You and Gil responded to a vehicle rollover with suspicious circumstances and he ended up being mauled by a bear, and yet you say he's all right?"

"Er, yeah, that about sums it up. We might not have been okay if the chopper hadn't shown up just then, but he's fine. I promise."

"He got mauled by a bear."

"Er, yes..."

"In Nevada. Near Las Vegas."

"Yeah, we thought that was odd too."

"Did you ever find out how the bear got there?"

"Actually, we did. While we were waiting in the ER, the driver of the tow truck woke up. Turns out he had been driving across the Sierra Nevada ranges from California when the bear ran into the side of his truck. The force knocked the bear unconscious, but the driver thought it had been killed. The idiot thought he might like the pelt, so he used his towing cable to pull the beast up into the bed of his truck, then covered it over with a tarp and continued on his way toward his home in Vegas. When the bear woke up, it was hurt, angry, and confused and attacked the back of the truck. The man swerved, lost control, and rolled. He actually wasn't that injured by the accident because he remained in the vehicle and the roll bar protected him, but the bear had also survived and attacked him. He grabbed the gun he had under the seat and shot at the beast as it pulled him from the vehicle, hitting it in the foreleg. I guess that was enough to make the bear run."

"Do you think it'll always be that aggressive towards people? Why did it go after the family in the visitor center?"

"Ah, turns out the family had packed a lunch which included some very strong smelling corned-beef sandwiches. I think it was just hungry. They're going to monitor it closely in rehab, but it was probably unusually aggressive because it was injured. Except for the tow truck driver, though, it mostly seemed to take out its aggression on inanimate electronic devices... Gil just got in the way."

"You're sure he's okay?"

"Yes, he's fine. Just pissed that he probably won't be able to go out into the field for a couple of days. After that, he'll be good as new... or at least, as good as he has been lately."

"Jim? Is he doing okay?"

Jim winced a little, cursing his slip and unsure of how much to tell her, "Uh... It's hard to tell with him, you know. He bottles things up and hides them. He's been working a lot..."

"Yeah... I wish... Uh, could you have him call me? When he's out of the ER, I mean."

"Of course, doll. -- Look, I'd better get back up there. I'll make sure Gil gives you a full update, okay?"

"Thanks, Jim. Bye."

Jim sighed as the connection went dead, then turned back toward the hospital entrance to go find his friend. He just wasn't sure what he could do to help. Something was obviously wrong, but they just as obviously both still cared deeply about one another. Maybe things would work out eventually.

**x.x.x.x**

Jim listened to his friend's half of the conversation as he drove them across town towards Gil's townhouse.

"Hey, Jim told me I'd better call you, or else... Uh, he didn't specify, but I'm sure it wouldn't have been pleasant... I'm fine... No, really, I'm okay. I'm sure I'd be very sore, but they have me on some good pain killers... Just have to stay off the leg for a few days, and no heavy machinery. Guess I won't have an excuse to avoid that paperwork... No, you don't need to do that... I'll be fine. Jim offered to come stay in the townhouse to help out..."

Jim glanced over sharply, if he was hearing correctly, it sounded as if Grissom had just told Sara **not** to come home to take care of him! Jim couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the man. From the sounds of things, Sara was wondering the same thing.

Jim turned back to the road, feeling slightly better after his friend's adamant response, "Of course I do! Yes! Just not because of this. Not until you're ready, honey... Yeah, much nicer, but Jim'll do..."

Jim looked up again as Grissom actually chuckled a bit, "No, definitely not permanently, that'll still be your post when you're ready... We miss you too... Er, no, I actually hadn't told him yet... Yes, I'm sure Hank will love him..."

Jim looked over and mouthed, "Hank?"

Grissom just held up a finger and continued talking, "Okay, I'll tell him, but the surprise would have been much more enjoyable... Mmm, true... Okay, dear... I will. You take care of yourself as well... Yeah, I love you, too. Bye... Yes? ... Mmm-hmm, he's driving... Well, I think he already knew that..."

As Grissom glanced over at him, Jim realized that his eyes might have been popping slightly at hearing **those** words spoken in **that** tone from his stoic friend. Grissom's next comment confirmed that he did indeed look as shocked as he felt, "No, you're right as usual dear, he does look a bit stunned... No, I don't think it was the drugs... Well, seeing a bear that close wasn't on my to do list, but it was rather thrilling... Got it, no more bears, check... Okay, maybe the drugs are having a bit of an effect... Yeah, I'll talk to you later... Promise... Bye."

Feeling more optimistic about Sara's eventual return, Jim rapidly blinked his eyes back into submission, managing to look almost bland as Gil turned to him, then lost control of his expression again when he heard, "Did I mention that we need to stop on the way and pick up my dog?"

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**THE END**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**AN**: The codes used in this fic are from Chadini's list of Las Vegas Metro Event Codes and are as follows:

**401B:** Traffic Accident with Injury

**404A:** 9-1-1 Disconnect

**430:** Animal Complaint

Feedback appreciated, nitpicks welcome!

PLK


End file.
